


Wuthering Heights, Suffering Heights

by Gabethebabe



Category: Leviathan - Scott Westerfeld
Genre: AP english suffer squad 2k16, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Crushes, Dalek if u squint, Friendship/Love, Happy, M/M, One Shot, Silly, Trans Male Character, Wuthering Heights References, meet me in the fucking pit Emily Bronte, transboy Dylan Sharp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:23:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabethebabe/pseuds/Gabethebabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of trading in War for AP classes, torn rigging uniforms for polished school ones, annoying midshipmen for annoying dorm assistants, and Doctors for Professors. <br/>Or, the boarding school au I like to think about from time to time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wuthering Heights, Suffering Heights

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make myself write something Leviathan related since I haven't in a while. So, I present to you what I like to call "projecting my own struggles on my fictional faves".   
> It's really short and not that great but??? it's something.

“This book sucks!” Dylan groaned and threw the offending novel on the ground in defeat. Alek watched his friend with a sly smile. 

“But Dylan, don’t you know that this book is a literary classic?” His voice as thickly laced with sarcasm as it was his Austrian accent. 

Dylan glared daggers at him, and the redhead wondered if he missed the days when he thought that he didn’t speak english. He found the look of annoyance on his best friend’s face to be terribly delicious, so he decided to follow up his previous statement. “A story about timeless love and endless passion.” 

“A passion to be absolutely terrible maybe. All this Heathcliff guy does is stare at people and ruin their lives, all because Cathy had to go and be a whore about everything.” 

Alek scoffed. “If you actually read the book you would know that it’s so much more than that, Dylan.” 

“If I actually read it my eyes would bleed, Alek.” Dylan ended his name with a harsh k, which was subsequently punctuated with a groan. Alek watched as his friend spread out across his sky blue comforter dramatically. He felt a small smile pull at his lips as he watched the blonde, and something stirred within him. Something he tried desperately to ignore. “What the bloody hell are you staring at?” 

Despite the harsh diction, the words were said with an unprecedented softness. Alek continued to stare down at his friend, watching how his blonde hair fell about his head in a haphazard and the way his head hung upside down off the edge of his head. 

“N-nothing.” He squeaked and looked away suddenly. His nerves had made his accent thicker. He hoped his friend didn’t notice that- didn’t notice the way he was gripping the edges of his required reading so hard that his knuckles were white. 

“You’re blushing.” Dylan’s voice was still just as soft as it had been before. Alek forced himself to keep his eyes glued to the words- forced himself to try and focus on them.  _ Catherine sighed.  _ _ “He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”  _ Alek’s face heated up even more for reasons he still refused to acknowledge. 

He watched Dylan sit up from the corner of his eye. “I guess….I just reached a particularly scandalous part of the book. Heathcliff and Catherine are hugging.” 

The softness across Dylan’s featured contorted so that his face was now painted in jovial humor. He snorted in the most endearing way. “Oh, aye, you barking prudish clankers. No hugging before marriage. Aye, how scandalous that Catherine Earnshaw should let herself be so debauched as to make unprotected eye contact with a male servant!” Dylan flailed dramatically so that he was spread out across his bed once more. 

Alek continued to peer down at his page, stealing the occasional glance at his friend.The poster-plastered walls of their dorm room began to close in on him.

_ Had it always been so hot in here?  _ Sweat was building up on his neck and brow in a most uncomfortable way. 

“Well, while you sit there with your attic in a book, I’m going to talk to our DA about turning down this barking heat.” Dylan declared, standing with a speed that almost gave Alek second hand whiplash. 

Alek offered a shaky smile, hoping to convey the same teasing tone he’d held earlier. “Good luck with that. Fitzroy hates you, Dylan, I think he keeps the dorms over 75 just to spite you.” 

“Aye well, we’ll see how keen that bum rag is on sticking it to me when I exact my revenge.”

Now it was Alek’s turn to snort. He ignored all thoughts of what his godfather, Volger, would have said about the unprincely act. “Now you’re sounding a bit like Heathcliff.” 

“Maybe.” Dylan rested his hand on his chin. Alek gave up making any academic progress in such conditions and sat his book down. He then turned to watch as his friend seemed to ponder his statement in an exaggerated way. It took him all of 30 seconds to realize he was being mocked. “Oh Alek, whatever would I do without your sage advice that had been derived from the depths of a gothic romance novel.” 

His voice- accented and dripping in sarcasm- caused yet another round of fondness to swell within Alek. After all, Dylan had been the only friend he’d ever had- let alone the only friend to openly mock him. It might sound backwards, but he appreciated the way Dylan would point out when he was being a “snob”, “acting like too much of a barking spoiled brat”, and the way the two of them would trade jabs and insults in such a lighthearted way. It was a world of difference from the gentle voices most of his servants and tutors had used back home. Well, all gentle aside from the count. 

“Just don’t come to me when you get busted cuddling with Newkirk’s corpse.” 

Dylan gave an exaggerated pout, and Alek made a mental note to remind him that their school’s drama club had a meeting tomorrow between last class and dinner. 

“Please, Alek, Newkirk is my Nelly at best. If anything, you’re the Catherine to my Heathcliff.” Alek felt himself tense up.  _ Of course Dylan would say such a thing so casually _ .

Without much warning to himself Alek found himself talking. “If I’m Catherine, wouldn’t it be easier for you to my husband, Linton, instead?” 

Dylan paused his reply to ponder once more, only this time his thinking seemed to be genuine. “I suppose so. But if we’re choosing book characters to be, I think that I would much rather be someone Shakespearian than someone from Withering Heights.” 

“Wuthering Height.” Alek corrected, picking up said novel again. 

“Withering Heights Shmuthering Shmeights.” Dylan stuck his tongue, leaving Alek was revolted before leaving him alone entirely. 

“Where are you going?” He called after him, partially wondering if he should follow. 

“Down the hall- Old Fitzy’s got a meeting with my sweaty arse.” 


End file.
